Lawn boy paulsen gary

With all gratitude to Britten Walker FOREWORD I don't have a clue how all this will end There are people now who say I'm some kind of wonderboy or that I know some secret and that I had this big hairy plan Nope One minute I was twelve years old and wondering where I could get enough money for an inner tube for my old used ten-speed I didn't have any money and my parents didn't have much either My mom is a teacher in an experimental school and my dad's an inventor Sometimes it takes a long time to work out a new idea This was one of those times so we were a little bit broke Mom and I have learned not to ask too many questions about what he's doing because if we do, he wants to use us as guinea pigs and we learned our lesson during what we now refer to as the Voice-Activated Door Incident Dad swears Mom's nose is as cute as ever and I don't notice anything di erent about it, but she still touches it gingerly when he starts talking about some big new idea he's got going The next minute, it seems, I've got a business of my own, with employees, and I'm rich I'd better explain It all began at nine in the morning on my twelfth birthday when my grandmother gave me an old riding lawn mower My grandmother is the kind of person who always thinks that no matter how bad things might seem, everything will always come out all right Her hair could be on re and she'd probably say, “Well, at least we have light to read by.” She's the most positive person in the world, and amazing and fun to be around, but in a strange and happy way sometimes she seems to be about nine bricks shy of a full load You can say, “You know, I think the Yankees will win the World Series again.” And she'll answer, “Yes, but it's still nice to put carrots in stew for the flavor.” And you think that somewhere inside that brain maybe a screw came loose Then you nd out that the last time the Yankees won the World Series she made a stew and forgot to put carrots in, and blamed the Yankees (she'd never liked them anyway) when the stew tasted funny She still doesn't like the Yankees “It all makes sense if you wait long enough,” she says So when I turned twelve she came to the house with an old riding mower in the back of her Toyota pickup “Happy birthday,” she said “It used to belong to your grandfather He was always working on it I thought you might like it.” “A mower?” Though we lived on the edge of what was termed an upper-middle-class neighborhood— Eden Prairie, Minnesota—our house was small, a “ xer-upper” when my folks bought it four years ago It had a yard the size of a postage stamp and the grass never seemed to grow enough to need mowing It just sprouted, stopped, gave up and died Over and over My father and I lifted the mower down from the truck bed “A lawn mower?” I looked at Grandma “Thanks.” “My bridge club is meeting on Thursday night,” she said, getting back into her truck, “which makes it hard to watch CSI since it's on Thursday too Did you know that?” And she drove away before I could answer her, much less wait for the part where it made sense “It appears you now have a lawn mower,” my father said, smiling, as he walked back into the house “I don't know the connection with her bridge club either, although I'm sure there is one She's your mom's mother, maybe your mom will know what that meant.” I looked at the mower Very old, low, small It looked like it only cut about a two-footwide area, and it was nothing like the fancy new machines The seat was steel, without a pad, and the driver's feet went over the top of the motor to rest on two foot pedals One was a brake, the other a clutch that you had to push down to get the mower moving It steered with two levers, like a very small bulldozer, and looked more like a toy than a mower Okay Since I was twelve, I didn't have much experience with motors I've never even had a dirt bike or four-wheeler I'm just not machine oriented My birthday present sat there I tried pushing it toward our garage, but it didn't seem to want to move Even turning around to put my back against it and push with my legs —which I thought might give me better leverage—didn't help; it still sat there So I studied it On the left side of the motor was a small gas tank, and I unscrewed the top and looked in Yep, gas On top of the tank were two levers; the rst was next to pictures of a rabbit and a turtle Even though I'm not good with machines, I gured out that was the throttle and the pictures meant fast and slow The other lever said ON-OFF I pushed ON Nothing happened, of course On the very top of the motor was a starting pull-rope What the heck, why not? I gave it a jerk and the motor sputtered a little, popped once, then died I pulled the rope again and the motor hesitated, popped, and then roared to life I jumped back No muffler Once when I was little, my grandmother, in her usual logic-defying fashion, answered my request for another cookie by saying that my grandfather had been a tinkerer “He was always puttering with things, taking them apart, putting them back together When he was around nothing ever broke Nothing ever dared to break.” Loud as the mower was, it still wasn't moving and the blade wasn't going around I stood looking down at it This strange thing happened It spoke to me Well, not really I'm not one of those woo-woo people or a wack job At least I don't think I was Maybe I am now Anyway, there was some message that came from the mower through the air and into my brain A kind of warm, or maybe a settled feeling Like I was supposed to be there and so was the mower The two of us Like it was a friend So all right, I know how that sounds too: We'll sit under a tree and talk to each other Read poems about mowing Totally wack But the feeling was there Next I found myself sitting on the mower, my feet on the pedals I moved the throttle to the rabbit position—it had been on turtle—and pushed the left pedal down, and the blade started whirring The mower seemed to give a happy leap forward o the sidewalk and I was mowing the lawn Or dirt As I said, we didn't really have much of a lawn Dust and bits of dead grass ew everywhere and until I gured out the steering, the mailbox, my mother's owers near the front step and a small bush were in danger But in a few minutes I got control of the thing and I sheared o what little grass there was The front lawn didn't take long, but before I was done the next-door neighbor came to the fence, attracted by the dust cloud He waved me over I stopped in front of him, pulled the throttle back and killed the engine The sudden silence was almost deafening I stood up away from the mower, my ears humming, so I could hear him “You mow lawns?” he asked “How much?” And that was how it started When it all began, it was simple Our neighbor's house had a larger yard than ours, with what looked like good grass No difficult corners, just a big square with a large elm tree in the center I mowed it, and he gave me money Twenty dollars Figuring that I used almost all the gas in the tank, about a gallon, which cost three dollars, and not counting the wear and tear on the mower (I didn't know how to gure that out), I made seventeen dollars for my work It took two hours so I made eight dollars and fifty cents an hour That, I was to learn later, was called capitalism While I was finishing up that lawn the next neighbor up the block came by and said: “How much to mow my lawn?” Wow Another job, just like that I poked around in our garage and found an old three-gallon gas can I walked to the station on the corner, bought gas, brought it back, lled the tank and mowed the second guy's yard And while I was doing that a third man came and asked me to mow his lawn The lawns kept getting bigger, and soon it was dinnertime and I had done three lawns and had made sixty dollars and I had a small piece of scrap paper with phone numbers and addresses for six more lawns … Turns out the man who owned the lawn service that had done all the yards in our neighborhood had run o with the wife of one of his customers and all the husbands were worried about hiring a new company after what had happened A kid like me mowing their lawns wouldn't be much of a threat, I suppose Plus, I was cheap Later I would learn that I had tapped into something called an expanding market economy All I knew was that it felt good to have all that money in my pockets That evening I took a rag and wiped the mower down, parked it in a corner of the garage and—a little admission here—patted it on the top of the gas tank As I bent over, the wads of bills cracked in my pockets Thanks, Grandpa I never really knew my grandfather but the mower seemed tough and friendly Maybe it was like him He had worked on it and used it and it was nice to think of him as part of it Then I went inside A strange thing happened My parents were getting food on the table and as we sat down to eat my dad said: “That new lm about astronomy is on at the IMAX It would be great to see it.” He sighed and I knew he was thinking about our budget And there I sat My pockets full of money And I could have said no problem, I've got money, and I'll earn more money tomorrow and more money the day after that… But I kept my mouth shut I could have said all those things but nothing came Somehow it didn't feel right for me to be the one o ering to take us all to the movies If I did that, wouldn't Dad feel worse? Wouldn't it sound like I was bragging? I ate my meat loaf and green beans and then went into the living room and watched a little television Or tried to I still had the sound of the mower in my ears so I couldn't hear the set And my whole body was still vibrating from sitting on the mower all day After a few minutes, I couldn't keep my eyes open By eight o'clock I was sitting on the couch with my head hanging forward, drool dripping onto my T-shirt, sound asleep Mom shook me awake and sent me up to bed, where I crashed onto the pillow, still dressed, pockets full of bills End of day one with my lawn mower And that was the easiest day There was a second then or a minute or maybe even a day when things could have remained sort of normal The next day I moved the mower farther into the richer part of the neighborhood, where the lawns began to get larger while my mower seemed to get smaller Of course it didn't really, but that's how it felt Soon it became obvious that I could only three or maybe four lawns a day if I worked from just before dawn to just after dark And while it's true that the owners of the larger yards paid me more—I was getting thirty to forty dollars a lawn the second day—there was also the distance factor I had to ride the mower from lawn to lawn and as I moved farther from our house that meant it would take me longer to get home at night, putt-putting down the edge of the street on the mower Plus, I had to stop every few hours to buy more gas, and that really chewed up my time even more than the bigger yards Great mower, small tank I must have been the only kid my age in what felt like a ten-block radius who hadn't signed up for sleepaway summer camp or who wasn't on baseball and/or swim and/or tennis teams that summer— I was burned out on sports after spring baseball league All the older guys had real jobs like at the Clucket Bucket or the Dairy Whip and all the guys my age were mostly busy or gone, so I had a long summer full of nothing ahead of me, almost as if I'd known how things were going to work out Which, of course, I hadn't More and more people wanted their lawns mowed—on the second day I had eight jobs—and the fact was that I was fast approaching my limit Three lawns a day, plus re lling the tank from time to time, was all I could manage, and I would have to mow the lawns every week Three lawns a day, once a week, twenty-one lawns if I worked seven days, dawn till dark, no days off Making approximately six hundred and thirty dollars a week It seemed like a staggering whop of money Summer was twelve weeks long, which meant that by the end of vacation I would have made over seven thousand ve hundred It was still raining softly that afternoon as I pedaled home from Arnold's, but the sun was coming out and I knew we'd be able to work the next day I'd told Arnold what happened with Rock He nodded “As you become more successful you'll attract more attention Good and bad It's a fact of business It was good that Mr Powdermilk showed up With our unique situation, it might be di cult to call the authorities.” “Are we breaking the law?” “Not at all, not at all But it might be di cult to explain how all this could happen without your parents knowing.” I watched as Joey Pow waved, got in his station wagon and drove away “I'm going to tell them I'm just waiting for the right time.” “Soon The right time should be soon.” I nodded “Maybe tonight.” And just for the record, I tried Mom came home around four o'clock from her summer job, Dad came out of his lab in the basement, I helped in the kitchen and we had a proper sit-down meal After the meal Dad read the paper and I helped Mom with the dishes and then we went into the living room to watch television Just after Dad put the paper down and Mom turned the set on there was a moment “Mom, Dad …” They both looked at me “I've been mowing lawns….” Seemed lame Try again “I mean, I know how hard you work….” Still lame Hmmm All right Shoot the moon “Mom, Dad If you could have anything you wanted, anything, what would it be?” Mom looked at me “Is this a game?” “No Seriously Anything you wanted—what would it be?” She frowned, thinking “Well, I would hope that you have a happy and fulfilled life.” “I mean stu Is there any kind of stu you want?” I looked at Dad “Same for you— anything.” “I'd agree with your mother and hope that you had a good life.” I have a good life, I thought And I have over fty thousand dollars “Thanks, both of you But, hey, like I said, I mean stu For yourselves Isn't there anything you would want?” They looked at each other and shrugged “Not a thing,” Mom said “Me either.” “Oh, come on I mean, think about it, anything, no matter the cost.” There was a silence Then my mom laughed “Oh, I know what you're doing You've saved up some money from your lawn-mowing business and you want to help out Isn't that it?” “Well, sort of.” “Ohhhh.” She smiled that soft mother smile “That's very sweet, dear, but we … Who on earth is that?” She had been sitting facing the front window, which looks out across the lawn—which by this time, what with Pasqual's e orts, was starting to look pretty good He'd been so horri ed by the condition of what he called “the boss's lawn” that he'd come by to recondition it The change was a complete mystery to my parents, who made jokes about the lawn fairies who work on the grass when everybody is asleep My parents were spending a lot of time relaxing in the evenings after work, admiring their miraculous lawn My mother stood and walked to the window “My goodness.” I looked and was stunned to see the old station wagon with Joey Pow sitting in the front seat, his head down, dozing “Look at the size of the man Why, he barely fits in the car.” Dad stood and went to the window “Hmmm … the car looks kind of beat-up I wonder if he's all right?” “He's all right, believe me.” It slipped out before I could stop it “You know him?” Think fast But I couldn't gure out how to explain how I had come to own the prize ghter in front of our house without a whole lot of details and I also didn't want to lie to my folks “Well, sort of I know him from the lawn jobs I've been doing He's a good guy I'll go out and see what he's doing here.” I was out the door before they could say anything “Joey …” “Yes.” “What are you doing here?” “I thought I'd spend the night here to make sure Rock's people don't find you.” “Well, gosh! Thanks A lot But Rock doesn't know my name or where I live… Speaking of that, how did you find me?” “I followed you on your bicycle.” “Oh Well, look, I don't need any help right now But thanks again Besides, shouldn't you be getting sleep for training? When's your next fight?” “Six days Next Saturday night It's on the list they send sponsors.” “I left the list at Arnold's Oh, Joey, my parents don't know … what I at Arnold's, and that I'm sponsoring you Not yet, that is I'll tell them, of course, but I haven't gotten around to it yet I can't gure out a good way to tell them how everything happened and they might not understand my involvement in, well, the fight game.” “Don't you want to be my sponsor?” “Oh no, that's not it; I'm glad that … um, we're working together Especially after today—and thank you again for that.” “No problem.” “Is your fight next Saturday on television?” “I think so Can't you come to the arena, though? The sponsor should watch the ght in person.” “It would be hard for me to get there But I'll watch it on television I really will I'm rooting for you, Joey I know you're gonna win; I just feel it Now go home and get some rest and concentrate on your training You only have six days to get ready.” “I still worry about Rock.” “I'll be fine Really And thanks for everything.” He looked at me “I'll be fine.” He nodded And as I watched him drive away, I really be lieved it The next day started out normal Or as normal as anything had been this summer The rain had stopped and the grass dried I rode my little mower over to Arnold's to check the notebooks to see where the jobs were By now the whole thing pretty much took care of itself Everybody knew where to go, what to “Well.” I sighed “Another day …” Arnold nodded “It's a good crew—they know what to It's the best kind of business Everybody is happy, everybody makes money and the lawns get good care Speaking of knowing what to do—did you talk to your parents last night?” “I tried, Arnold I really did But then Joey showed up and the opportunity was gone.” “Joey showed up? What you mean?” So I told him about Joey following me home and how di cult it became to talk to my parents about all the money things “I couldn't see just how to break it to them by explaining that I ‘own’ a heavyweight prizefighter, so I figured I would maybe wait until tonight Or this afternoon It's Monday and they both get off work today at noon.” Arnold nodded “All right, then But for sure today I'm really getting uncomfortable about keeping secrets from them And I want your parents to set up a proper account for you.” “Today For sure.” “What are you going to now?” “The Beckwith lawn I might as well take my mower over there Keep my hand in.” I worked for two solid hours and only had half the lawn done before I needed to refuel I'd started to put gas in the mower when I remembered my cell phone Arnold had bought a bunch of phones and given one to each of the crews and to me so that we could keep in touch throughout the day It bothered me that I had the thing in a belt holster while messing with gas after I'd seen something on television about how cell phones might spark and blow things up, so I took it out of the belt holster and was just setting it on the ground when it went o I had it set on vibrate so I could feel it because with that old mower there was no way I could hear it The vibration scared me so much I dropped it I grabbed it The call was from Arnold “Hi What's up?” “It might be best for you to head home right now.” His voice sounded clipped and unnatural “What?” “Home It would be good for you to head home.” “You mean your place or my home?” “Yes Right Head for home now… Unnhhh!” And then nothing I looked around, half expecting to see something that would explain what I'd just heard Nothing, of course I went over Arnold's words again, trying to remember I dialed his number It rang and rang “This is Arnold Please leave a message.” I started to leave one, then decided not to Something was very de nitely wrong He had said “head for home.” I looked at my watch Nobody would be there for an hour Why head home? Why not go to his house? And why had he cut off so abruptly? Rock It must have something to with him, but Joey Pow had pretty much taken care of that Maybe not Maybe Rock had come back and followed some of the men to Arnold's house and figured out that Arnold kind of ran the show And then they came this morning And what? I had to go see But carefully I parked the mower and ran the four long blocks to Arnold's I stopped across the street in back of the Jamisons' hedge and studied Arnold's house His Toyota was there as usual Things seemed normal Nothing was moving on the porch or in any of the windows that I could see I watched for what seemed like an hour but it was probably only fteen minutes or so I tried to slow my breathing down from the run over and I clenched my hands into fists to stop the shaking I nally decided to walk up to the house and check it out and had started to creep out of the hedge when I saw it Behind the curtain on the living room window, a man's head appeared Just for a second the curtain shifted and I saw him I moved back behind the hedge Rock Either him or his identical twin So Rock was there Probably with some of his men And they must have Arnold So Now what? They had Arnold and they wanted … what? They wanted money More money than before For sure But what else? They wanted me? Wanted me to get the money? With a jolt I realized there was nothing I could Pasqual turned his cell o during the day so he could sleep, and even if I could get to some of the sites and get the men they might not be able to help I could call the police! I had a cell Three numbers Nine-one-one But I didn't Would anyone believe me? A twelve-year-old kid calls the police and says he's running a huge business and somebody has taken over the house of his stockbroker? No problem We'll be right over We just have to pick up the tooth fairy and Superman and we'll get right on it My heart sank even further when it hit me that I had no way to get in touch with Joey, either, who would have been my best ally All the paperwork about him was still in Arnold's house I didn't know his address or phone number or even where the ght was going to be on Saturday Everything was in the house Where Rock was, either alone with Arnold or with more of his men I needed help Now I needed somebody smart who could think outside the box and help me gure out what to about Rock and Arnold Somebody with a good brain who would truly want to help me I needed my parents I ran the whole way home and saw the car in the driveway I burst into the house They were in the kitchen with Grandma “Oh, hi, pumpkin,” Mom said “Would you like some lunch?” On the run over I had decided I would tell them everything “Mom, Dad, Grandma, please sit down on the couch.” “How about lunch first?” Dad held up a knife covered with mayo “No time, no time Please Now.” Mom said, “You've been acting so strange lately.” “It's puberty,” Grandma said “He's becoming a man Men act strange from time to time, and I am worried about what the hole in the ozone layer is doing to the plants in the rain forest.” “You know that guy who was sitting in the car yesterday?” I shook o the image Grandma had put in my mind and refocused on the situation at hand “The big guy?” “Yeah, that's him His name is Joseph Powdermilk He's a professional boxer, a prizefighter His next fight is Saturday night and if he wins I get half his winnings.” “What on earth are you talking about?” Mom asked “Why you get half his earnings?” Dad frowned “Why should he give you anything?” “Because I bought his contract and I sponsor him.” They sat down “I mean, Arnold, my stockbroker, bought the contract for me “Arnold?” Dad asked “You have a stockbroker?” Mom whispered “His own boxer!” Grandma beamed So I told them the whole story Fast They nodded, sometimes shook their heads, then nodded more Listening, always listening, and I kept going, explaining Joey Pow and nally Rock and his gang When I'd nished I took a deep breath “And I think they're in Arnold's house now holding him prisoner No, I know they're in there because I saw them and I don't know what to do.” Dad stood “Call the police.” “At rst I thought of that But nobody would believe me anyway, even if I could call them.” “But with your parents with you, they would listen… What you mean at rst and why couldn't you call them?” “He means,” my mother chimed in, “that it's di cult to go to the police because some of his employees are poor people who really need the money and if the authorities come into it, perhaps they'll nd the workers aren't all documented the way they should be Is that it, pumpkin?” I nodded “Thanks, Mom I know we should call the police, but I was hoping there might be some other way—that you guys might be able to think up a way to solve this….” I let it hang there Theywere the smartest people I knew If they couldn't come up with something nobody could Dad said, “We go to your strength.” “I don't think I have one.” “Sure you do! Literally You know a prizefighter.” “But I don't know how to find him.” “Now,” Mom said, “the thinking comes in.” It took her just three minutes on the Internet and two phone calls before I heard Joey's voice on the other end of the line Meanwhile, I was shaking Grandma o because she wanted to say hello to him “Joey, it's me.” “The sponsor.” “Yes Rock and his men are at Arnold's house, holding him prisoner, I think for money, and I can't call the police because a lot of the workers will get in trouble—” I heard the phone click and Joey was gone before I nished speaking I up and turned to my parents “Let's get over there.” “I call shotgun,” Grandma said as we scrambled to the car At Arnold's we parked behind Joey's station wagon just as he was stepping out of the driver's side “Shouldn't we help in some way?” Mom asked, until she saw him standing “On second thought, Joey can handle it But we're going with him.” I got out of the car No matter what happened, Arnold might need help either during or after I started walking toward the house, Mom and Dad with me Grandma brought up the rear I knew, or thought I knew, what was coming Joey had gone into the porch slowly, closing the screen door quietly behind him By that time we were close to the house If the front door was locked it didn't slow him down He hit it with his shoulder, took it off its hinges, and was out of sight There was a mu ed, thumping sound Oh no! Rock or his men might have a gun! Later I found it was just the sound of one of the men having his head jammed into a dishwasher Without opening the door on the washer After the thumping, there was a second or two of silence, followed by a scream, and one of the men was thrown out the front door so hard he took the porch screen o its hinges and was propelled into the yard riding the screen on his hands and knees like it was a body board Until he hit the elm next to the walkway The elm was probably a hundred years old, very big, and didn't give a millimeter when the man plowed into it facefirst A few seconds later, Joey came out with Rock in his right hand and another man in his left, carrying them like cats by the backs of their necks The rst man was still in the kitchen jammed into the dishwasher Later I found out that Rock and three others had been in the kitchen with Arnold tied to a chair They thought Arnold had told me to come to his place, and they'd been planning to force me to give them money when I came “I told you,” Joey said, “to leave the sponsor alone or I would pinch your head.” “Please, Mr Powdermilk.” Mom was standing by the sidewalk, a half horri ed, half admiring expression on her face “Couldn't you just give them a stern talking-to?” “Yes, but I did that before, when they made trouble the rst time I told them that I would pinch their heads if they came back They came back anyway Talking to them again won't help Pinching their heads will.” Grandma was nodding “I won't come back,” Rock said “I promise this time I really You don't have to pinch my head, really I'll what you say.” “See, Mr Powdermilk?” Mom nodded “I think he means it.” Joey stared at Rock in one hand, then studied the man in his other hand He peered over at my father, who shrugged and said, “He seems to be telling the truth.” Then Joey turned to Grandma, who said, “Probably not the best move, young man, although personally, I'd like to see you pound the snot out of them.” Joey sighed and looked back at my mother “If you really don't want me to …” She shuddered “I would really rather you didn't.” “All right But if they come back, I'll have to take care of things my way.” “I understand And they understand—don't you?” Both men nodded enthusiastically “Then please let them go, Mr Powdermilk,” Mom said He dropped them and it was like watching those cartoon scenes where a dog or cat is held o the ground and his legs start moving faster and faster until he's dropped and he shoots away They disappeared in half a second We all went into the kitchen and found Arnold tied up but not gagged I introduced him to my parents and Grandma while we untied him The man slumped against the dishwasher was regaining consciousness Joey picked him up by the neck and threw him the length of the hallway and out the front door Arnold was none the worse for wear and made a pitcher of his special iced tea for us We all had a glass while Arnold explained how he wanted to set up my account with Mom and Dad, and Grandma asked if Arnold could find her a boxer to sponsor too Then my mother held her glass up and said, I think, a line from Shakespeare: “All's well that ends well.” Except That wasn't the end We all went to the fight Saturday night It was a huge auditorium with a ring in the middle and a bunch of fat men smoking cigars that smelled like dog poop when a hot mower blade hits it Women with not a lot of clothes on were hanging on to the men Because I was a sponsor, I had ringside seats for Arnold and my family, and when we arrived it was pretty exciting Joey came out in a big red robe, followed by his manager in a red T-shirt He took o the robe and pumped his arms in the air He had on red trunks The ring announcer introduced the ghters and we cheered like crazy Grandma blew kisses, which made Joey blush and look away The other man wore green When the bell rang the ghters came out of their corners and took a stance in the middle like they were going to box Only they didn't The man in green swung at Joey and Joey ducked a little and used his right to hit the other guy so hard it sounded like somebody had slammed a melon with an ax The other boxer slid backward, already out cold, until he hit the ropes, then slithered between the bottom rope and the mat and out of the ring to land in the lap of a fat man smoking a cigar We all jumped up screaming, “Joey! Joey! Joey Pow!” He waved a glove at us The fight lasted four and a half seconds That was it The purse was ve thousand dollars and I was due for half Wow This was just the start for Joey; he was going to have many more ghts When I went to bed that night I had a dream about him doing a whole bunch of four-and-a-half-second ghts until he became world champion It was a great dream, in color, with Joey wearing the red trunks for luck and with a lot of action, and because it had been such a late night at the ght I slept hard When the phone by my bed woke me up the next morning I was still in the dream “It's me,” Arnold said “We have a new development.” “Don't worry… As long as he keeps wearingred trunks we're bound to win.” “What?” The dream was hard to shake “As long as he keeps wearing red trunks …” “Wake up It's me, Arnold!” “Oh.” I shook my head, scattered the dream “All right So what's the problem?” “It's not a problem You remember the Walleye stock?” “Sure The one that made me rich.” “That's the one Well, I put in the sell order back when I said I did, and the records said it sold for four dollars a share and you came up with forty-eight thousand dollars …” “And change.” “Yes And change Except the sell order didn't go through like the computers said it did and the stocks didn't change hands the way they're supposed to Some kind of technical foul-up So for all of this week you have still owned Walleye stock In fact, you still And there have been some massive shifts in the value—” Even half awake I could feel a sinking in the center of my stomach “How much,” I said, though I didn't want to know, really, “did we lose?” “Oh my No The stock didn't go down, it went up.” “Up?” “Yes There was a secondary merger of some stature and a larger software company took the whole thing over They're always doing things like that, these high-risk software stocks I remember when—” “Arnold—how much?” “Oh Well, the merger triggered more interest, so the stock jumped to forty dollars a share You have twelve thousand shares at forty dollars a share….” Numbers More numbers Twelve times four Forty-eight No, not forty-eight, but … “Four hundred and eighty thousand dollars?” “Yes Of course, there will be fees and commissions and the like, but still, it should be just a little under that gure Now listen, please It's Sunday and the market is closed, but I heartily recommend that tomorrow morning when it opens we sell the stock and put the money in something solid and long-term.” I didn't faint This time I didn't faint But I did hang up and I got out of bed and went down into the kitchen, where Mom and Dad and Grandma were making a late breakfast, and without thinking about telling them to sit down I gave them Arnold's news and found there must be a weak male gene in our family because Dad fainted We put him on the couch “He's coming around.” Grandma patted his hand She turned to me “You know, dear, Grandpa always said, take care of your tools and they'll take care of you.” ABOUT THE AUTHOR Gary Paulsen is the distinguished author of many critically acclaimed books for young people, including three Newbery Honor books: The Winter Room, Hatchet, and Dogsong His novel The Haymeadow received the Western Writers of America Golden Spur Award Among his Random House books are The Legend of Bass Reeves; The Amazing Life of Birds; The Time Hackers; Molly McGinty Has a Really Good Day; The Quilt (a companion to Alida's Song and The Cookcamp); The Glass Café; How Angel Peterson Got His Name; Guts: The True Stories Behind Hatchet and the Brian Books; The Beet Fields; Soldier's Heart; Brian's Return, Brian's Winter, and Brian's Hunt (companions to Hatchet); Father Water, Mother Woods; and ve books about Francis Tucket's adventures in the Old West Gary Paulsen has also published ction and non ction for adults, as well as picture books illustrated by his wife, the painter Ruth Wright Paulsen Their most recent book is Canoe Days The Paulsens live in New Mexico, in Alaska, and on the Pacific Ocean Published by Wendy Lamb Books an imprint of Random House Children's Books a division of Random House, Inc New York This is a work of fiction Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental All rights reserved WENDY LAMB BOOKS and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc www.randomhouse.com/kids Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at www.randomhouse.com/teachers Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Paulsen, Gary Lawn boy / Gary Paulsen — 1st ed p cm Summary: Things get out of hand for a twelve-year-old boy when a neighbor convinces him to expand his summer lawn mowing business eISBN: 978-0-307-53698-3 [1 Business enterprises—Fiction Summer employment—Fiction.] I Title PZ7.P2843Las 2007 [Fic]—dc22 2006039731 v3.0 ... was doing that a third man came and asked me to mow his lawn The lawns kept getting bigger, and soon it was dinnertime and I had done three lawns and had made sixty dollars and I had a small piece... paid me more—I was getting thirty to forty dollars a lawn the second day—there was also the distance factor I had to ride the mower from lawn to lawn and as I moved farther from our house that meant... time to time, was all I could manage, and I would have to mow the lawns every week Three lawns a day, once a week, twenty-one lawns if I worked seven days, dawn till dark, no days off Making approximately